


Drained

by Ulfrsmal



Series: March Musical Madness Masterpieces [8]
Category: The Last Kingdom (TV)
Genre: Angst, Drabble, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, March Musical Madness (The Last Kingdom), aka the Trader, references to slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-15 04:35:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29803008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ulfrsmal/pseuds/Ulfrsmal
Summary: It hasn’t been long since Finan was liberated from the Trader, along with Lord Uhtred, whose true name he has just learnt; his mind swirls in circles as he latches on to both Uhtred’s and Sihtric’s names.
Relationships: Finan/Sihtric/Uhtred of Bebbanburg
Series: March Musical Madness Masterpieces [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2185899
Comments: 10
Kudos: 7





	Drained

**Author's Note:**

> The title is [a song by In Flames](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gWJ9dd8iJPc).

Darkness swirls around him, deeper than he’d ever remember it being. Has it truly been _that_ long since he was freed from the _Trader_ , alongside his brilliant Lord…? There is no way of truly knowing the passage of time beyond what the Sun and Moon tells him from their place high up in the sky. But he’s been rendered unusable, weakened by the harsh years spent at sea. His soul feels just as weakened, although that hurt tends to not show as acutely.

The only ones who have come to see him in this dark room inside, where he cannot even see the Sun and Moon passing him by, are that dark-haired boy with mismatched eyes whom his Lord has been recklessly flirting with since they got out of the _Trader_ , and the Lord himself. Their true names elude his hazy mind now, even when his soul recognised them both the first moment he heard them. There was a certain comfort in their syllables when he’d pronounced them. Almost like he’d known them eons ago and just now remembered all about the love they once shared.

He would turn around in bed, but he’s much too wounded for that. He is covered in ugly scars. His hair has been cut and cleaned; and yet it still feels tangled and dirty. He knows these things take time, as the Good Nun – Hild…? – told him when she’d healed his cuts a long time ago. Or at least he thinks that was a long time ago. Again, his perception of time’s passing is too skewed already.

He feels drained. He closes his eyes.

When he reopens them, there is a new warmth at his side that wasn’t there before. The feeble bed dips down at more spots than just the ones directly below his body.

“You’re awake…” His Lord’s voice sounds as roughened by disuse as his own felt like when he’d used it to introduce himself to the dark-haired boy with mismatched eyes. “Good… My Irishman…”

Am I yours alone, or am I yours and the boy’s to share?

“Sihtric, come here too. You’re welcomed into my bed.”

“But Lord, he doesn’t know me yet…”

Uhtred’s gaze travels from his face to one point beyond him, closer to the door, to address those mismatched eyes and coy demeanour. He remembers them very well. Had be been in a less sorry state, he would’ve been flirting his desperate shot as well. He wonders if the handsome, dark-haired boy – _Sihtric_ – would choose Lord Uhtred or him.

“Then you should _really_ come here, so he can get to know you as I know you.”

Even his darkness can admit that the boy fits perfectly between them.


End file.
